Anyway, the title, wonky graphic gimmicks, and adorable manner of writing pulled me in, then I found myself thoroughly engaged in the actual lessons being taught by Sorbeck. It made me aware of things that had hardly crossed my conscious mind, despite how many times they had passed through my field of vision.
I never planned to be an art major: I excelled at math and science, and assumed I’d do something in that field. I was told that I was good at art and had enjoyed doing it, but I didn’t understand why someone would dedicate their life to such a thing. I couldn’t (still can’t) find a personal reason for me to JUST (yeah, I said it) make things. I require finite, logical reason for my motivation to exist. In “The Cheese Monkeys,” I discovered that there was an area of art that actually had specific purpose, and was infatuated with the combination of mathematical precision and specificity with the inconsistent, inexplicable nature of aesthetics. I guess I had heard of graphic design, but I didn’t really know what it entailed until I read the book.

Oh also, that chapter where they’re all working on their final projects in complete delirium: that was just so perfectly expressed, it really just sealed my fate. I mean, there were a few sentences where he was talking aboot looking at his pen and being confused by the ink colour…just…yes.